


I'll Tumblr 4 Ya

by katertots



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies), What's Your Number? (2011)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katertots/pseuds/katertots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of filled prompts from my Tumblr.  Title cleverly (?) comes from the Culture Club song "I'll Tumble 4 Ya."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everybody Talks (Steve/Darcy/Bucky)

“Lewis and Barnes?” Tony scoffed as he and Clint stepped into the tower elevator.  “No way, Barton.  I saw her practically swallowing Steve’s face a few days ago on their way to his room.  Aren’t you supposed to have super vision?”

 

Clint shrugged.  “Know what I saw and I’m tellin’ you that Barnes had her bent over the back of the couch yesterday.”

 

Tony cringed.  “Which couch?  My couch?  The couch that we all sit on in the common space?”

 

“You expect me to believe that you haven’t fucked Pepper on that couch?” Clint smirked and folded his arms. 

 

“Cuddled, Clint.  I’ve cuddled Pepper on that couch.” 

 

“Yeah,” Clint snorted.  “Naked cuddle.  I saw you.” 

 

Tony narrowed his eyes and glared hard at Clint.  “You’re fucking disturbed, Barton.  While I may occasionally enjoy dipping a toe into the pool of voyeurism, I don’t appreciate being the subject of yours, especially since it’s my goddamn money that put this roof over your head.  Let’s focus on the subject here,” Tony said, ticking off his fingers, “Lewis.  Barnes.  Rogers.” 

 

“We should ask the others,” Clint suggested.

 

“Excellent idea,” Tony declared and held up his hand for a five. 

 

… … …

 

Bruce heaved a long-suffering sigh when Tony and Clint barreled into his lab trying to talk over each other.  “What are you babbling about?” he asked, looking up at them over the top of his glasses.

 

“Darcy and the World War II soldiers.  What’s the real story?  That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Tony answered, gesturing between him and Clint.  “I say she’s with Steve and Peeping Clint over here says Bucky.  What do you know, Banner?”

 

“I’m very busy or did that completely escape your attention?”  Bruce asked drolly.

 

Tony shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets.  “Noticed and ignored.  I’m selfish and need to be entertained.  This is entertaining me.”    

 

Clint smirked and leaned back against a table.  “Come on, Bruce.  Darcy works down here.  You must’ve seen  _something_.” 

 

“Will you go away if I give you an answer?” 

 

Tony and Clint exchanged a quick look and nodded their agreement.

 

“I saw Barnes show up around lunch time one day a couple weeks ago and Darcy left with him.  Her shirt was on inside out when she got back.”

 

“Told you,” Clint grinned at Tony, making the man frown.

 

“Steve came to see her after he got back from a mission the other day and I’m pretty sure she pulled him into a supply closet.”

 

“Told  _you_ ,” Tony smirked victoriously.   

 

“Darcy’s dating two guys.  Congratulations.  The two of you have done some fine detective work,” drawled Bruce.  “Leave, please.” 

 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Tony said, making Bruce sigh again.  “Steve and Bucky are getting along, right?  I didn’t notice them beating the shit out of each other recently.  You, Barton?” 

 

“Nope,” Clint answered.  “Saw them this morning in the gym and everything seemed fine.” 

 

“Have you ever seen the three of them together?” Bruce asked. 

 

“I have,” Natasha chimed in from the doorway.

 

“Jesus Henry Christ!” Tony yelped, whirling around to face her.  “Where’d you come from?” 

 

“Russia.”  She walked silently into the room and folded her arms across her chest. 

 

Tony rolled his eyes.  “When do tickets for your comedy tour go on sale, Romanoff?  I’ll be sure not to miss it.”    

 

Natasha leveled him with an arched brow.  “Do you want to know what I know or not, Stark?”

 

“Spill it.” 

 

“The other day Darcy walked out of the shower in the gym with both Steve and James.” 

 

Tony’s eyes grew wide and his face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning.  “Holy shit!  JARVIS?” he bellowed.

 

“Yes, sir?” the posh voice answered.

 

“Where are the three love birds now?”

 

“If you are referring to Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, and Miss Lewis, they are at the pool, sir.  Shall I inform them that you’re looking for them?”

 

“Absolutely not, JARVIS!  Thank you.”  Tony took off running out of the lab with Clint, Natasha, and Bruce close behind.

 

… … …

 

“Do you think they have any clue we know they’re watching us?” Darcy asked laughingly as she leaned back against Steve’s chest from their seat on the pool stairs.

 

Steve lowered his lips to her ear and chucked darkly.  “Nope.” 

   

Bucky smirked and swam closer to stand between Darcy’s parted legs.  “Wanna give ‘em a little show?” he asked wickedly, sliding a finger down her chest, hooking it in the fabric of her black bikini top.    

 

“Part of me does,” Darcy nodded and shifted her hips back against Steve’s when he skimmed his fingers over her stomach.  “But I really want to fuck the both of you stupid right now so let’s just call them out here and answer their burning questions so I can get to that.” 

 

“Kiss us first,” Steve whispered against her neck before kissing a trail down to her shoulder. 

 

“Gladly,” she purred with a wicked gleam in her eye before grabbing the back of Bucky’s neck to pull his lips to hers.

 

… … …   

 

“Holy hell,” Tony choked and pressed his nose closer to the glass.  “I vastly underestimated those two.” 

 

“Three,” Natasha corrected with a nearly imperceptible smirk. 

 

“Nah, we figured Lewis had it in her,” Clint answered.  “Bruce, you want a better look?” 

 

“Not especially,” he answered.

 

“Liar,” Tony laughed.  “Shit.  We’ve been spotted.  They’re motioning us outside.” 

 

“Think they want us to join?” Clint snorted.  He groaned when Natasha dug her fingers into his arm.  “It was a joke.  Fuck.” 

 

Tony slid open the doors and he and the rest of the group walked out onto the rooftop deck.  “Oh, hello.  Lovely day for a swim, eh, kids?” he greeted.

 

“What the fuck do you pervs want?” Darcy barked, now seated innocently between Steve and Bucky on the stairs.  “We’re busy.” 

 

Tony’s face split into a Chesire cat-like grin.  “I can see that.  So, lemme just get this straight.  It started with you two,” he stated, pointing to Darcy and Steve.  Darcy and Steve exchanged a smile and nodded.  “And then you two,” he pointed to Bucky and Darcy. 

 

“He’s so good at this,” Bucky said sarcastically. 

 

Steve and Darcy laughed while Tony rolled his eyes. 

 

“It’s my building and I’ll ask uncomfortable questions if I want to.  Then you three, obviously, from what I was just watching.” 

 

“You’re disgusting, by the way,” Darcy informed him.

 

“Noted.  So, Capsicle—” he began and held up his two index fingers, making an ‘X’, “you and Barnes ever, you know, cross swords during your playgroup?”

                                                                                                                

“No!” Steve and Bucky exclaimed in unison.

 

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me,” Tony said, acting affronted.  He gestured to the rest of the group.  “Inquiring minds wanted to know what was going on around here.”

 

“We know good and well it was you and Peeping Clint who started this,” Darcy sneered and climbed out of the pool. 

 

“Hey, that’s what I call him, too, Lewis.  Fivesies!  No?” he asked when she just glared at him.  “Rude.” 

 

Steve and Bucky followed Darcy out of the pool and grabbed their discarded towels.  The three of them attempted to walk past Tony and he stood in their way.  “Stark, move it,” Steve warned. 

 

“Oh, I will.  I just have to say one last thing.  I’m surprised two men born in the 20s have it in them for these types of activities.” 

 

“They don’t call it the greatest generation for nothing, Tony,” Darcy smirked and shoved him into the pool.


	2. 1, 2, 3 (Steve/Darcy/Bucky)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on this prompt from nessismore for OT3 Steve/Darcy/Bucky 
> 
> http://24.media.tumblr.com/de05f095477ae2e09b1a6479850fb4c2/tumblr_mhy9s2YoF11qkkfvno1_500.jpg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is nessismore's fault. She played dirty pool and gave me the TVD triangle picture prompt. Obviously I had to write it.

How they ended up like this, Darcy doesn’t really know. 

 

Okay, that’s a lie.  She knows it’s because she wanted both of them so badly she couldn’t stand it and they both wanted her right back.  This was her idea, but it still surprises the hell out of her that they went along with it and that she’s in bed having sex with Steve and Bucky.

 

Her body is in sensory overload right now, every nerve ending in her body sparking like a live wire, and all she can do is look blindly up at the ceiling while she tries to take every last feeling in.  Steve is between her legs, rocking his hips slowly and surely against hers, and trailing his lips over her chest and up the column of her neck.  She’s got one hand on the small of his back pressing him closer and a strangled noise tears from her lips when he hits her spot.  “ _God,_ ” she hisses, and he does it again.    

 

Her other hand rests on Bucky’s face, feeling the stubble on his jaw beneath her fingertips while he alternates between kissing the hell out of her and whispering absolutely _filthy_ things in her ear about what he’s going to do when it’s his turn. 

 

She blinks and tells them this was the best idea she’s ever had. 

 


	3. Happy Birthday  (Darcy/Steve)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for nessismore who gave me the first sentence prompt: "I'm old," Steve grumbles under his breath, "but I'm not dead."

“I’m old,” Steve grumbles under his breath, “but I’m not dead.” He frowns and drops the birthday card on the table he knows she meant as a joke. He doesn’t find nearly as much humor in the Grim Reaper on the front or the _Happy Birthday, Gramps!_ written in her loopy cursive on the inside as she does.

Darcy laughs and sits down to straddle him at the kitchen table, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kisses his cheek and runs her fingers through the hair on the back of his head. ”Believe me, I know. You proved that four times last night.”

He grins then and slides his hands down to cup her ass. ”And twice this morning.”

“I think you may have dislocated _my_ hips,” she teases and he chuckles and nips at her bottom lip. ”Would you like your real present now?”

“Yes, please.”

Darcy leans back and grabs the red, white, and blue gift bag on the table and hands it to him. ”Happy Birthday, Steve.”

He opens the card first and the inside reads _Happy Birthday, Daddy_. There’s just a second of confusion, but then he flicks his eyes up and sees the look on his wife’s face and he knows. Steve reaches into the bag and pulls out a silver picture frame with the words _Love At First Sight_ engraved on it. The ultrasound photo has Darcy Rogers printed in the corner and 9w3d.

The words he wants to say are lodged in his throat and his eyes sting with the threat of tears.

“Surprised?”

He nods silently and places his hand on her still flat stomach. ”I love you,” he says to both of them.


	4. Crash (Darcy/Steve)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Merideath, who prompted me on Tumblr the first line "Goddammit, Rogers, your flying sucks," Darcy said as she carefully picked her way through the wreckage of the quinjet. 
> 
> Feel free to prompt me things. dopemixtape.tumblr.com

"Goddammit, Rogers, your flying sucks," Darcy said as she carefully picked her way through the wreckage of the quinjet.  She didn't know what the hell had happened up in the air because she'd fallen asleep after being awake all night for the mission and woke when the jet started falling out of the sky.  But she'd just survived a plane crash, so she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.  

He hadn't responded yet and there was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach at the thought of him being hurt.  Or worse.  "Steve?" she asked again, opening the door to the cockpit, terrified of what she might find on the other side.  He was on the floor, huddled against the wall, his face whiter than a ghost.  "Hey," Darcy murmured and knelt down beside him.  His breathing was ragged and beads of sweat dotted his forehead.  "Are you okay?"  

Steve looked up and his eyes were wide and scared when they met hers.  "Not again," he said, his voice thick and strained.  

Darcy's brows knit together as she stared at the man in front her.  She'd never seen him rattled like this before and they'd endured far worse situations than this.  He was scaring the hell out of her.  "Steve.  Tell me what's wrong.  Are you hurt?"  

"Not again," he mumbled, scrubbing his hands over his face.  "Please not again.  I don't want to freeze.  I hate the cold.  Hate the ice."  His whole body shivered despite the hot, humid air filling the cabin.  

The pieces finally clicked together in her head.  The last time he'd been in a crash he woke up seventy years in the future and everything he'd known was gone; he thought it was happening again and her heart broke in a million pieces for him.  "Steve, look at me," she ordered and grabbed his face in her hands, tipping it up until he met her eyes again.  

He blinked rapidly and she saw the recognition slowly flicker in his eyes.  “Darcy?” he choked out. 

 

“Yeah, it’s me,” she smiled softly.

 

“Darcy,” he sighed and pulled her into a crushing hug.  She made a strangled noise and he loosened his arms a fraction so she could breathe.    

 

“You’re safe,” she murmured and rubbed her hand down the back of his head.  She whispered it over and over again as they held each other, hoping it would finally register for him.

 

After a few minutes, he pulled back so he could look at her.  Steve combed the hair back out of her face and tucked it behind her ears, letting his fingertips curve around her jaw.  “Fuck, I was scared it was happening all over again,” he mumbled.  His fingers brushed lightly against her neck and her skin prickled with goose bumps.  They were partners, the best of friends, but in that moment everything shifted and it suddenly felt like so much more; like something she didn’t know she wanted until the possibility was nearly lost.  And now she wanted it so much she could hardly breathe.     

 

“Scared that you were going to be frozen?” she asked quietly. 

 

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the action, and he nodded.  “And that I was going to miss my chance.” 

 

Butterflies fluttered wildly in her belly and she closed her eyes, leaning slightly into his touch when he cupped the side of her face with his warm and calloused hand.  “Your chance for what?” she asked so softly she wondered if he’d actually heard her.  She opened her eyes and found him with a quiet smile curved on his lips.

 

“Us,” he murmured and kissed her.                  


	5. Luck o' the Irish (Darcy/Steve)

Steve has just finished his debriefing with director Fury aboard the quinjet after their mission and as he rounds the corner, someone reaches out of the shadows and pinches his ass when he walks by. "What the hell?" Whirling around to see who the culprit was, he finds Darcy standing there in her SHIELD issue catsuit, blue eyes dancing and a wicked smirk playing over her full lips. "Darcy!" he laughs. "The hell was that for?"

"You're not wearing green, Captain. I expected better from the Irish on St. Paddy's Day." Her tone is teasing the way it usually is when they talk. They've been engaged in this game where they flirt like crazy with each other for months now, but they've yet to make a move for anything more. It's fun and exciting and utterly maddening all at the same time.

He smirks and slowly looks her up and down. "Don't see any green on you either, Agent Lewis." Steve steps closer, playfully making pinching motions with his fingers. She lays a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Ah, ah, not so fast, Captain Rogers," she sing-songs. "I am wearing green."

His grin is lightning quick, but his eyes rake leisurely over her curvaceous figure again. "Yeah?"

"Mmhmm," she purrs with a smile on her lips that could tempt the devil.

"Better show me then or I'll pinch back," he mutters darkly. Darcy glances over her shoulder and then back at him as she reaches for the zipper on her suit. Steve's throat goes dry as she slowly inches the pull down, the metal teeth parting to reveal creamy smooth skin beneath. She pulls it down until he catches just a glimpse of the emerald green lace bra she's wearing on her impressive tits. "Christ, Darcy," he growls. Their game just ratcheted up to a whole new level and he definitely wants to play.

"I'd show you more," she sighs, inching the zipper up, "but that's not how we play our game is it, Steve?"

He inhales sharply and meets her eyes. "What if we change the rules?" Darcy's eyes light wickedly and she curves up her lips in the sexiest smile he's ever seen.

"Come over tonight and we'll discuss how we want to play from now on." She zips up her suit the rest of the way and turns to leave.

"Your panties match?" he asks with a crooked grin.

Darcy turns back around and tilts her head. "What panties?"

A groan strangles out of his throat. "See you at seven."

She huffs out a laugh. "Good. I've always wanted to have a bit o'the Irish in me."

Steve smirks and shakes his head. "Doll, you can have all of it," he promises.

"Jesus. I gotta go before I get fired." She turns to leave and for fun he pinches her ass. "Hey!" she laughs.

He shrugs innocently. "Said you didn't have green on there." 


	6. I'm Blue (Darcy/Bucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to in-a-lilac-wood for prompting me Darcy/Bucky, blue on my Tumblr.

Darcy’s waiting in the hall for the team to complete their debriefing so she can kiss the crap out of her boyfriend for the first time in weeks.  Her stomach does an excited flip when the door opens and she pushes to her feet, tucking her phone into her pocket.  Tony is the first out of the room and his face splits into a shit-eating grin as soon as he sees her.  “What?” she asks him warily, because that expression usually means trouble. 

 

“You’ll see,” he snorts and stands beside her. 

 

Steve and Natasha file out of the room next.  “Hey, Darce,” he greets, his smile a touch too bright.  Even the unflappable Black Widow has a grin on her face.  _A legit grin_.    

 

The source of their amusement becomes crystal clear when Bucky shuffles into the hall with a scowl on his face.  “Why the fuck are you blue?” she blurts.  Every bit of exposed skin that she can see is blue and a laugh bubbles up into her throat before she can stop it. 

 

“It’s not funny, doll face,” he grumbles. 

 

“Uh, I beg to differ.  Did you sneak a piece of Willy Wonka’s experimental full dinner gum on the mission?  You know he hasn’t figured out the dessert part yet.”  She turns to Tony and smirks.  “Please tell me someone said ‘You’re turning violet, Violet!’”

 

“Ha!” Tony barks, clapping his hands together.  “Pay up, assholes.  I told you she’d make that joke.” 

 

Darcy laughs and turns back to Bucky who is not amused at all by her right now.  “C’mon, Barnes, this is hilarious and if you weren’t a hundred you’d understand the reference.” 

 

“Jesus, Darcy.  You wanna kick me in the balls you’re at it?” he grouses.

 

“Nope,” she laughs again and steps closer to him.  “This isn’t permanent, right?”  She flicks questioningly hopeful eyes over to where Bruce is standing.

 

“It’s wearing off.  I figure a couple more days and he should be back to normal.” 

 

“That’s good,” she grins winningly at Bucky.  “There’re only so many Avatar and Violet Beauregard jokes I can make.”  Bucky narrows his eyes at her and she giggles.  “C’mere, Papa Smurf, I’ve missed you,” she teases, curling her fingers into his t-shirt to tug him closer.       

 

“I didn’t understand a goddamn thing you just said,” he mutters, wrapping blue hands around her hips.  ‘’Cept the part about you missin’ me.”  He winks and dips his head to kiss her.  He stops when his lips are a breath away from hers.  “And before you ask, yes, _everything_ is blue.” 

 

Bucky captures her mouth with his and swallows her giggles.


	7. Sweet As Candy (Darcy/Steve)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merideath prompted me Darcy/Steve, Steve is a chocolate thief.

“Goddammit!  Who ate all of my Reese’s peanut butter eggs?” Darcy shouts when she returns to her desk.  She limited herself to a salad at lunch because she had every intention of gorging herself on delicious candy the rest of the afternoon.  Now she’s frowning at a nearly empty basket that was full of peanut butter eggs an hour ago and all that’s left are some stupid jelly beans that aren’t even the good Starburst kind.  “I swear, whoever stole my peanut butter eggs is getting punched in the dick.”

 

A throat clears behind her and she whirls her chair around to find a very guilty looking Steve standing there.  “Hi,” he smiles sheepishly.  She doesn’t miss the way he tries (and fails) to nonchalantly cover his junk with the bag in his hands.

 

Darcy springs to her feet, eyes narrowed as she glares up at him.  She pushes up on her toes to smell his breath and her nose is hit with the heavenly scent of chocolate and peanut butter.  “You dirty thief!” she crows.  “I can’t believe you ate _all_ of my candy.  There were three bags in here.” 

 

“’M sorry, Darce,” he apologizes.  “I just wanted to try a piece because I’ve never had one before.  Then I couldn’t stop myself because it was the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

 

“That’s what she said,” she snorts and he rolls his eyes at her, huffing out a dry laugh.  She claps a hand on the back of his neck and pulls him down so she can lick into his mouth.  He grunts and drops the bag he was holding to wrap his hands around her waist.  Darcy tangles her tongue around his briefly and then pushes him away.  “Figured I might as well get a taste of my candy,” she murmurs.  He arches an eyebrow and leans in again.  “Oh no, I’m still mad at you and if you think we’re having sex tonight think again, Rogers.  Shoo, I have work.”  She shoves playfully at his chest and settles down in her chair.

 

Steve smirks and bends down to retrieve the bag on the floor.  He drops it on her desk.  “Have I ever left you hanging, baby doll?” he asks lowly in her ear. 

 

Darcy knows he’s not talking about candy now, but she opens the bag and her face lights up when she sees it full to the brim with bags of Reese’s eggs.  “You’re forgiven,” she tells him sweetly and turns her head to press a kiss softly to his lips.  He pulls away just as she was about to kiss him again and she frowns.  “Where are you going?”    

 

“I seem to recall being told to _shoo_ because you have work,” he answers, a smirk playing on his lips as he heads for the door. 

 

“Ass,” she laughs and reaches into the bag for a piece of candy.  She unwraps it and takes a bite, savoring the sweetness on her tongue.  Steve’s watching her with those damn puppy dog eyes she’s powerless against.  Darcy reaches into the bag and throws one at his head but he catches it effortlessly. 

 

“Thanks, sweetheart.  See ya tonight,” he winks and slips out the door.

 

“Ass!” she calls after him. 


	8. Hold You To It (Steve/Darcy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thestarkinthesweater prompted me - Steve x Darcy: Much to everyone's surprise, she's the responsible one.
> 
> I don't even know what this turned into. :P

It wasn’t a surprise to  _any_  of their friends when they finally stopped pathetically circling around each other and started dating.  They’d been hopelessly flirting for months and months before she simply couldn’t wait on him to make the first move any longer.  Taking a page from one of her favorite movies, she yelled his name across the bar to get his attention, marched right up to him, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him stupid.  

 

What would surprise them is how wrong their assumptions about her and Steve’s relationship are.  Darcy’s friends with everyone on the team, but she knows they mostly see her as this fun, silly girl whose genius hacking abilities are often overshadowed by her penchant for cat memes, junk food, practical jokes, and trashy romance novels.  Steve, on the other hand, gets mercilessly teased about being a hundred year old man with a stick up his ass, a 4:30 dinner time, and an infant for a girlfriend.  Admittedly, they should probably find new friends other than these assholes, but she’s content to let them think whatever they want.

 

He’s the brilliant tactician at work and everyone just assumes that must carry over at home, too.  If they knew how far from the truth that really was their heads would spin.  Steve spends so much time in the field planning and executing strategies for that whole  _saving the world business_  he specializes in, and when he’s at home he tends to let that side of him almost completely slip away.  If it weren’t for Darcy, their bills would never be paid on time and they’d probably never have things like toothpaste or toilet paper, coffee filters or cat food in the apartment.  Steve would miss all of his meetings and appointments if she didn’t write them down on the calendar they keep on the fridge, and his hair would always grow a week too long if she didn’t run her fingers through it, kiss his cheek, and laughingly say, “Time for a trim, Commander.”  (Though she often suspects he does the last one on purpose since tugging on his hair almost always results in sweaty, naked time.)

 

Steve takes care of her, too, of course.  He makes her eat her vegetables and drags her along to the gym.  She snarls at him and he just gives her that Disney Prince smile of his that’s always gotten him whatever he wants where she’s concerned.  The apartment is always neat and tidy when he’s home; laundry gets folded and put away, and there’re more home cooked meals and far less takeout.  He distracts her into taking breaks when she’s working too hard (usually with sex as it’s his most effective tactic).  When her mother calls and passive-aggressively nags her to the brink of tears, Steve takes the phone away, and curtly tells her mother where to go. (It’s a thing of brilliance, actually)  Then he holds her until she’s finished crying, murmuring how much he loves her, listing all the reasons she’s smart and wonderful and perfect for him before doing something silly to make her laugh.

 

There are times when she wonders what she’s gotten herself into, whether or not she’s cut out for this life.  Times like right now when he’s lying battered and broken in a S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital bed after a bad mission and she’s afraid that _this time_  his body might not be able to piece itself back together again.  And there aren’t words adequate enough to describe the relief she feels when he wakes up.  He gives her this heartbroken look like he  _knows_ what she was just thinking.  His brows knit together, grimacing in pain as he tries to sit up.  Darcy gently nudges him back down, tells him he’s off the clock and doesn’t need to play the hero right now.  Steve smiles wanly and reaches for her hand.  ”M’sorry I scared you.”

 

"Who me?  I’ve been cool as a cucumber this whole time, Rogers."  Her voice cracks, gives her away.  Steve tugs on her hand and Darcy carefully curls up beside him in the bed.  She blinks back the tears and lets the sound of his heart thumping strongly in his chest ease the worst of her fears.  His thumb rubs idly over the ring on her left hand.  

 

"It’s not too late to change your mind about this," his voice creaks.  "You deserve better than—"

 

Darcy turns her head and narrows her eyes at him.  ”Don’t finish that statement unless you want me to re-break your arm, you idiot.”   

 

Steve grins and winces over the split in his lip.  ”Your bedside manner needs work.”  

 

"S’the best I can do after you scared the ever loving shit out of me."

 

He brushes away the tears on her cheek and tucks her hair behind her ear.  ”I know, doll.  I’m sorry.”  

 

Darcy gives him a small smile and turns to press a kiss to his palm.  ”Just make it to the altar in one piece, okay?”  

 

His face relaxes, lips quirking into a happy smile.  ”Three weeks from tomorrow.”  He chuckles at look of incredulity on her face.  ”I don’t need a calendar for some things, Darce.”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to follow or prompt things at my Tumblr. dopemixtape


	9. Witchy Woman (Darcy/Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!

There’s a knock on the door and Steve glances at the clock.  Trick-or-treat hours ended a while ago, but he figures the time isn’t going to deter kids from trying to score more candy.  He pulls open the door, surprised to see his girl on the other side.  She wasn’t due back from her work trip until tomorrow, but he damn well isn’t going to complain.  A surprised but happy grin stretches across his face.  ”Hi.”   

 

"Trick or treat," Darcy says, a naughty smile curving over her pink painted lips.  She pulls a plastic Jack-o-lantern bucket from behind her back.  

 

Steve leans against the door jamb and he eyes her gray coat.  He smirks and reaches for the bowl of candy on the entry table.  ”Hmm, I don’t see a costume.”  

 

"A stickler for the rules," she laughs, producing a black witch’s hat and putting it on her head.  "Better?"  Her blue eyes light mischievously and he knows she’s not through surprising him for the night.  

 

"Hmm."  He digs through the candy and drops a couple Tootsie Rolls into her bucket.  "Not bad…but I think you can do better."

 

Darcy’s answering laugh warms through his chest and sparks low in his gut.  His eyes trail her fingers down as they slowly pop open the buttons of her coat, revealing hints of purple and black beneath.  Her hands part the fabric of her coat and Darcy holds it open, giving him an eyeful of her costume.  Well, he supposes it’s a costume, though the black corset, purple ruffled panties, and striped thigh high stockings says lingerie to him.   _Jesus Christ,_ he thinks as his throat dries up, drinking in all that porcelain skin wrapped in satin and lace.  She peers up at him expectantly, tucking a corner of that full bottom lip between her teeth.  As always, it’s the start of his undoing.  Steve blows out a low whistle and dumps the whole bowl of candy into her bucket.

 

"You know," Darcy begins, crowding closer to him, "that’s not really the candy I was after."  

 

Steve grins and hooks his left arm around her waist to pull her against him, fingers toying with the ruffles on her backside.  ”You can have whatever you want, doll face,” he says, pressing a searing kiss to her lips.


	10. Hate (Darcy & Steve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fic - "Have you ever wanted to hate someone?"

“Have you ever wanted to hate someone?”

Darcy’s abrupt question stuns him almost as much as finding her sitting on the front steps of his brownstone.  He hasn’t seen hide nor hair of her since she pulled the plug on their relationship and moved to New York.  

_Three months ago._

But there she is, dark hair spilling out under her red knit hat he bought her ages ago, chewing on her bottom lip the way she always did whenever she was nervous. Her index finger absently picks at the frayed spot on her knee of her worn out old jeans he knows are her favorite - another tell. Steve feels his jaw twitch, hating that all of this shit is still there, just below the surface, and shoves his hands into his pockets.  It’s late and it’s cold and he doesn’t know what the hell Darcy was thinking, sitting out here alone, waiting for him to come home.  His neighborhood isn’t rough by any means, but she needs to use her head and be more careful.  He’s about to launch into what she used to affectionately call a ‘dad lecture’ when he remembers she’s not his to worry about anymore.  

“Yes,” he says tersely.  “Did you really come all this way just to ask me that?  And why are you sitting out here in the middle of the night in the cold?  That’s dangerous, Darcy.”  Okay, so old habits die hard.

 She looks away, abashed, and folds her arms around her body.  “I considered using my key, but that felt wrong.”   

 Steve shakes his head.  “Breaking our engagement and running away you have no qualms about, but you draw the line at using your old key to be somewhere safe and warm.  Noted.”  He pulls the keys from his pocket and starts up the stairs, halting when Darcy stands, putting them at eye level.

 “Do you hate me?” she whispers, the words blowing out in a warm puff against the cold air.

 “Some days I really do,” he answers.

 “And the others?”

 “I tell myself I should.”  

 Darcy looks thoughtfully at him for a long moment.  The light above the door is dim, but he can practically see the cogs turning behind her eyes, and he wonders what the hell she’s thinking.  “Okay,” she finally says, one corner of her mouth quirking up.  She leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek before descending the stairs.  

 “Okay, what?” he snaps.

She stops, looks back.  “It’s said the opposite of love isn’t hate, but indifference.  I wanted to see what I’m up against.”    


	11. I'll Be Right Over (Darcy & Colin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fic - "I'll be right over."

"No."  

Colin snorts.  ”The hell?  That how you answer the phone now?”

Darcy rolls her eyes, which is pointless since he can’t even see, but it makes her feel a little better.  She tosses her heels towards the closet, not really caring if they land inside it or not so long as they’re not on her feet anymore.  ”It is when you’ve had a week planned by Satan himself,” she says, flopping back on her bed. “I’m tired, Shea.  And I want no part of your shenanigans tonight.”

His answering laugh is low in her ear, tempting, making her have thoughts she really shouldn’t since they’re just friends. “Rude.  I was jus’ callin’ to say hi.  Shenanigans?”

"Did I stutter?" she snaps, but feels the corners of her mouth curve.  "Oh, and FYI,  _friend_ , the innocent act doesn’t fly with me.  I know you, remember?”

"Yeah, yeah.  I know you, too,  _pal._ I’ve got Mr. Wong’s on the way, a case of your favorite beer in the fridge, and Friday Night Lights queued up on Netflix.”

Dammit.  She didn’t think she’d be ready to acquiesce so easily.  ”As long as it’s not season two.”

"Season two?" he scoffs.  "What do you take me for?  Season one, baby!"

"It sounds fun, Colin, but I’m probably terrible company right now."

"Not gonna let you sit around and mope all night.  C’mon, Sparkles.  Clear eyes, full hearts…"

_Can’t lose_.  Darcy sighs, willing herself to sit up and change into her sweatpants.  The thought alone is exhausting.  She can practically feel him smiling through the phone, as though he can sense he’s about to win.

"I’ll rub your shoulders, too.  I know you practically wear them as earrings when you’re stressed.  They’re probably knotted to hell and back."

Maybe she could rally and find her second wind after all.  At least the commute was easy.

"I’ll be right over."


	12. Flirting (Darcy/Colin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fic - "I'm flirting with you."

Darcy takes a long, slow pull from her beer, setting the bottle down with a thunk on the scarred wood table.  Her fingers barely have a chance to leave the bottle before she’s snagging it back up again in one hand, running a finger through a bead of condensation on the glass. Idly, she picks at one corner of the peeling label with her fingernail.   **  
**

She can’t help but glance out of the corner of her eye at one particular spot at the bar, but her gaze darts back just as quickly. There’s an internal pep talk of sorts going through her head, and once she gets to the end of it, she’s made her up mind.  She’s going to get off her ass and go chat up the cute guy and his outrageous dimples at the bar.

After all, the whole point of this night out was to meet new people.

And honestly, CDG (Cute Dimpled Guy) has been looking her direction for the last hour or so, smiling and flashing his ridiculous dimples while playing pool with his buddies.  He’s alone at the bar now, so she figures this is probably her best opportunity to go introduce herself.  

Darcy takes one last drink for liquid courage and slides to the end of the booth.  She doesn’t get far though, when her ass bumps up against a pair of long legs in faded jeans blocking her path.  Colin.   _Of course_  he picks this moment to come back to their booth.  

“Scoot over,” he insists, nudging her shoulder until she has little choice but to comply unless she wants him to lie on top of her in the booth.  Which she  _doesn’t_.    

She gives one last long, lingering look at CDG, her gaze abruptly drawn back to Colin when he nudges her knee with his.  

“Dammit, Colin!” Darcy hisses through gritted teeth, reluctantly sliding back towards the wall.  

She angles her head to glare at her friend, ready to launch into a ‘you’re-the-worst-wingman-ever-learn-some-goddamn-boundaries-Jesus-what-is-wrong-with-you’ tirade, but is completely thrown when Colin slides in after her and lazily wraps his arm around her shoulders.  He pulls her tight against his side, sending a slow-burning grin in her direction, eyes only for her.  

He’s warm and solid and smells amazing.  

Then he leans in and nuzzles his nose into her hair.  A traitorous tingle shoots up her spine.  She allows herself half a second to forget that they’re just friends, enjoying, instead, the long, slow flip in her belly. She can feel the  low chuckle that vibrates through his chest and her cheeks heat in embarrassment.  

“What the hell are you doing?” she asks, attempting to squirm away from him.

“I’m flirting with you.”  His thumb brushes along the back of her neck, making goosebumps dot every inch of her body.

She swallows down a lump in her throat, wondering if maybe he actually feels for her what she pretends not to feel for him.  “Why?”  

Colin turns, gives her a long, measured look that she can’t decipher.  “Because…I’m keeping you away from that dimpled, pretty boy douche canoe over there.  I saw the way he was making eyes at you.”

Oh.   _That guy_.  She’d forgotten all about him until now, to be perfectly honest.  Glancing across the bar, Darcy sees that Cute Dimpled Guy has already turned his attention to the statuesque blonde next to him.   _Well, so much for that._

Now she’s mildly disappointed and fully annoyed.  And, frankly, kinda pissed off.  So she aims a kick to his shin under the table, taking sick pleasure in his pained yelp.  “Your wingman game is fucking terrible, Colin!  This whole night was your idea, by the way, or did that escape you completely when you decided to swoop in and keep me from talking to someone?”

“That fuckin’ hurt,” he grumbles.  

Darcy mutters a half-hearted, “Sorry.”  The  _not sorry_ , though unspoken, hangs heavily in the air.

Colin pulls her into a headlock, rubbing his knuckles on her scalp, giving her a Grade A noogie.  “Yeah, you seem real sorry,” he says, snorting with laughter as she wriggles against him.  

“Quit it,” she squeals, laughing, and aims a slap to his thigh.  “Colin, c’mon!”  He lets her up, but noticeably doesn’t remove his arm from around her shoulders.  “You’re such a brat sometimes, you know that?  Stop evading and tell me what that stunt was all about.”

He tips the neck of his beer bottle in her direction, pointing at her. “Maybe you think I’m tryn’a piss on your parade or whatever the fuck, but I just did you a huge favor.”

Eyebrows raised, she crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for him to elaborate.  

“Right,” Colin starts, pausing to take a drink of his beer.  He shrugs.  “So, I recognized that guy as soon as he walked in here tonight, only I couldn’t place how I knew him at first.”

“Okay,” she huffs. “And?”  Hey, sometimes she’s a brat, too, alright?  

Colin rolls his eyes, clearly not impressed with her behavior, but that’s too damn bad for him.  She’s not impressed with his, either.

“Know the guy ‘cuz I picked him up last year for hookers and blow.  Class act.  So, whatever you’re expecting, it’s not gonna be an apology for keeping that piece of shit away from you.”

Darcy blows out a slow breath.  “Yeah.  Alright.”  He’d come through for her yet again, helping her dodge a major bullet.  “Thanks,” she says, just loud enough for him to hear.

He rolls his eyes again and shakes his head fondly, chuffing her on the shoulder.  “You should know by now I’m on your side, D.”

Her lips curve slightly as she leans into him, resting her cheek on his shoulder.  “I do.”  For all that he drives her crazy—which is practically a daily occurrence—she couldn’t be happier that he’s in her life.  “I’m on yours, too.”  Darcy turns to prop her chin on his shoulder, looking up at the profile of his face.  “You know that, right?” she asks quietly, bumping her knee against his under the table.

“‘Course I do,” he says, fingers toying with the ends of her hair.  A slow, lazy smile stretches across his face as he shifts slightly, angling his head toward hers.  

Colin is unabashedly attractive, that she’s known since day one.  But it dawns on her that she’s never actually seen his face this close before.  And, really, what a shame that is.  There’s a cluster of freckles on his nose that lend an adorable, boyish quality to him—something she knows he would hate if she mentioned it—and a tiny scar on his cheek, just barely visible above the line of scruff on his jaw.  Part of her wants to ask how he got it.  He blinks slowly, and Darcy’s fairly certain those mile-long eyelashes of his could cause a butterfly effect on the tides.

“What are you thinkin’ so hard about?” Colin asks, voice pitched low, drawing her gaze down to his mouth.  Christ.  Just don’t even get her started on that mouth.  

Darcy worries her bottom lip between her teeth, flicking her eyes back up to meet his.  She sighs and quickly glances away.  “Something I probably shouldn’t,” she admits, voice barely above a whisper.  It’s true enough, at any rate.  

Needing distance before she goes and does something incredibly stupid, you know, like,  _kissing her best friend and making them both residents of Awkwardville_ , Darcy sits up a little straighter, attempting to inconspicuously inch closer to the wall.  It’s no use, though.  Colin willingly drops his arm from where it’s wrapped around her shoulder, but turns his body fully to face her in the booth. Darcy swallows.     

“Darcy,” he murmurs, eyebrows arched high in question.  

And, okay, either it’s wishful thinking or she’s losing it— _ugh, it’s probably both_ —because the way he said her name just now sounded an awful lot like a plea.  But then,  _then_ , his hand seeks out hers beneath the table, lacing their warm fingers together.  His other hand curves around her face, tipping it up until she’s looking into his eyes.  The goosebumps return.

“Something stupid, maybe?” he asks, tapping his thumb against her cheek. “‘Cuz I’m usually pretty on board with a stupid plan.”

Unless she’s completely misreading the situation, and with her shitty luck, it wouldn’t surprise her, but Darcy’s pretty certain that Colin wants to kiss her, too.  Her belly flips around with nervous excitement as she searches for the right thing to say.

“It’s so stupid,” she whispers.  Well, so much for that, she thinks, wincing at her lack of eloquence.  

A corner of his mouth ticks up, making that adorable dimple by his chin appear.  Colin’s eyes dip down to her mouth, and her heart beats double time in her chest, knocking a wild rhythm against her sternum.  Leaning in until they’re nose to nose, he smoothes back her hair, brushing the pad of his thumb along the shell of her ear.   _Jesus_.  She swears the anticipation of this whole business alone is enough to give her a heart attack.

“Try me,” he says, the challenge clear in his voice.  

Leave it to Colin to throw down the gauntlet.  Darcy takes a deep breath, surreptitiously wetting her lips.  

“What the hell,” she murmurs.  Closing the infinitesimal gap between them, she curls her fingers into the collar of his faded t-shirt, and presses her lips to his.  

Maybe they’ve been a powder keg this whole time, just waiting for a match to come along and light them up.  And lit up is exactly how she feels, with all this slow-burning need unfurling in her gut with each brush of Colin’s lips against hers.  His lips are as smooth and soft as she’s imagined a hundred (okay,  _thousand_ ) times before.  

Though her imagination never prepared her for the cycle of emotion and need rearing up inside; or how she feels like she can’t get close enough to Colin.  His mouth is focused and intense, and Darcy falls headfirst into it, pressing her body closer, meeting his every move with one of her own, just as needy, demanding, and eager.        

Colin lets go of her hand, and glides his up her back, briefly catching it on the hem of her t-shirt in his haste.  Her own hands curve around his face, holding him close as their legs twine together under the table.  

It isn’t just needing to kiss him; it’s needing to have every possible point of contact in the small expanse of the booth.

Even when, eventually, the kiss finishes, they break apart just enough, barely any space between their mouths.  Darcy drops her hands to rest on his shoulders and leans her forehead against Colin’s, eyes still closed as she breathes, once, twice, deep shuddering breaths. She can hear Colin do the same.  His hands unclench, one playing with her hair, the other coming to rest on the back of her neck, squeezing lightly.  Like a touchstone, a reminder that they’re both still there; they’re both in this together.

Darcy swallows, trying to find some of the footing that’s still escaping her, and opens her eyes to see Colin’s brilliant blue gaze staring at her.  His pupils are blown, eyes just as wide and shocked as she knows hers must be, too.  He doesn’t say anything, stunned into silence for the first time since she’s known him.

Oh, and doesn’t Darcy feel a small thrill of victory at that coup.  A tiny thrill of victory mixed among the massive amount of confusion, arousal, and, ‘ _What the actual fuck did you just do, Darcy_ ,’ that’s swirling around in her head.  

“So…” Colin says, voice low and gravelly.

“So,” Darcy repeats, cocking an eyebrow, “best stupid decision we’ve ever made?”

“Eh, being smart is overrated anyway,” Colin replies, nonchalantly shrugging a shoulder.  

The retort is  _right there_  on the tip of her tongue, and Colin must see it on her face.  He shakes his head and presses his index finger against her lips.  

“Nope.  Don’t ruin the moment with your smartass mouth.”

 Darcy huffs out a laugh and leans in to press a quick kiss against his lips.  She could get used to this.  “You’re an idiot,” she says, grinning.  


	13. Firefighter!Steve/Single Mom!Darcy AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This teaser was written for the darcystevemonth challenge and AU Week.

 

“Mama, how do I look?”

Darcy steps back and takes long, appraising look at her six year old daughter, at the newly painted Jolly Roger flag on her cheek and the twirly, cartoonish mustache above her lip. “Hmm,” Darcy says thoughtfully, tapping her index finger against her lips. “I think you’re missing one vital accessory, Harper.” Picking up two plastic eye patches off the table, each sporting a skull and crossbones that matches the one on Harper’s face, she holds them out in the palm of her hand.  “Which color do you want?”

Harper takes her time deciding, the way she does with nearly every choice she’s presented, before finally pointing to her favorite. “I think I like the black one best.”

"Good choice,” Darcy says warmly, a smile curving up her lips. She slips the patch over Harper’s eye and nods her approval. “There. Best pirate ever.”

The face paint artist holds up a mirror for her, and Harper stares at her reflection, giggling and clapping her hands excitedly. “I look so silly, Mama! It’s perfect.”

Darcy can’t help but laugh at her sweet girl’s reaction. “Agreed. Okay, Monkey, there’s a line of kids waiting for their turn. Let’s get a move on. What do you say to this nice woman for painting your face?”

“Thank you,” Harper says politely, hopping down from her perch. She turns back and whispers something to the artist that Darcy can’t quite make out. The woman smiles and nods, and Harper’s little dark head bobs along approvingly. “Thank you,” she says again, and picks up the pink eye patch Darcy had put back on the table. “Here, Mama, this one is for you. Then we can match.”

It’s not like she _wants_  to walk around the county fair with a pink pirate eye patch, but Harper’s face is so earnest and sweet that she finds it nearly impossible to say no. “Well, I can’t turn down an offer to match the mighty pirate captain, now can I?” Darcy pulls the pink patch into place and grins. “How does it look?”

“Arrrrrgh! It’s great!” Harper giggles behind her hand. “Can we get ice cream now?”

Darcy holds out her hand, squeezing affectionately when Harper fits her palm against hers. “Absolutely.”

 

***

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Bucky asks behind him.

“Dammit, so close,” Steve mutters under his breath. Guilty, he halts and turns around, summoning an apologetic smile for his friend. “Was gonna get a drink. M’thirsty. Want one?”

“Nice try, asshole, I’m not buyin’ your innocent act. You forget I’ve known you forever. It’s your turn to give the next tour,” Bucky says pointedly, jabbing his finger into Steve’s chest for emphasis. “I’ll go get the drinks.”

There’s no point in arguing; it _is_  his turn and he most definitely was trying to sneak away. “Hey, now, watch yourself. That’s Captain Asshole to you, Lieutenant. Get me a lemon shake-up, would ya?”

“Sure thing, Cap’n,” Bucky sneers, clapping him harder than necessary on the shoulder. “Though best ones are clear on the other side of the fairgrounds. Usually a long line there, too. Be back when I can.” With a mock salute, he hightails it away from the truck.

Normally Steve likes this part of his job.  He’s always enjoyed interacting with kids. So spending a day at the fair, showing them around the fire engine and handing out cute plastic firefighter helmets is, typically, a relaxing and rewarding experience.  

Today? Not one of those days.

No, today is one of those days Steve swears Satan himself sent his best minions disguised as cute children to the fair with their equally crazy parents to make his life, and the rest of the company’s, hell on earth. He blames the full moon slated for tonight. Doesn’t matter what the science says to the contrary, he’s seen first hand the insane shit that goes down during a full moon. Ask any cop or medical professional, and they’ll corroborate this theory.

Steve rounds the corner to see that even Sam—who normally exhibits the patience of a saint—is struggling with the kiddie crowd today, frustration evident on his face. Of course, a little boy just dropped an ice cream cone on Sam’s boots, then proceeded to kick him in the shin when Sam tried to hand the kid a red helmet instead of black, so frustrated might be underselling it. At least this boy’s parents have the good sense to look horrified and apologize as they hurry away with their son in tow, which is more than Steve’s seen from the others so far.

Yeah. That kind of day.

Relief washes over Sam’s face when he spots Steve. “Thank god you’re here, Cap,” Sam sighs. “I was half a second away from losing my cool. Gonna go wash the ice cream off my boots and get an elephant ear. You want anything?”

“Nah, but thanks,” Steve replies, waving him off. “Go take a break. I’ve got this covered.”

“You’ve got incoming,” Sam says with a jut of his chin. “Pirates two o’clock. Good luck with that, Cap.”

Steeling himself for another difficult interaction, he takes a deep breath, pastes on his politest smile, and turns around. Sam had mentioned pirates, but Steve hadn’t in the least been expecting a beautiful, curvy brunette sporting a pink eye patch over one eye, with an adorable little girl with twin braids and a pirate mustache in tow. Clearly, he’d been shortsighted.

“Yo-ho-ho! It’s the Pirate Queen,” he says to the girl, with a comical bow. His effort wins him giggles from her and an easy smile from the gorgeous woman he assumes is her mother. Perhaps this tour won’t be so bad after all.

“Arrgh! I’m the Pirate _Captain_ ,” she corrects, fisting small hands indignantly at her hips. “Captain Harper!”

Steve bites back a laugh and salutes Harper. “Aye aye, Captain. Is this your first mate?” he asks, gesturing to the woman beside her, and receiving more delighted laughter from the kid.

“Yeah, First Mate Mommy!”

This kid is ridiculously cute, and Steve doesn’t bother trying to hold back the laughter this time. “Well, Captain Harper, First Mate Mommy, I’m Captain Steve. Would the pirates like to look around the fire truck?”

 

_**Full length fic to come...** _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to prompt me things*. I'm dopemixtape.
> 
> * Ships and interests have changed. No longer writing or accepting prompts for S/D/B or D/B (02/18/15)


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